Revelation
by Venath
Summary: 'Vadumee's emergency message gave him no alternative. The parasite was free and the humans entrenched on the Holy Ring's surface. This was unacceptable. As Supreme Commander, he was bound by honor to slay the Demon himself. AU from Halo: Combat Evolved.
1. The Flood

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Halo, hence the fanfiction.

AN: Well here goes my first shot at Halo fanfiction, but I'm sure this little AN is hardly what you're interested in reading.

* * *

It all started with one announcement, a brief message from Rtas 'Vadumee on his mission to rescue the Minister of Etiology from what appeared to have been a human invasion of the _Infinite Succor_.

"The humans have released the parasites."

Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee ordered all of the highest-ranking officers left after the battle at the human planet to convene, though admittedly this wasn't the most ideal situation. All of those whom he'd called for were in attendance. The cause of this meeting, Rtas 'Vadumee, was still present even though he was currently holed up in the _Infinite Succor_ where he would likely be detained for some time, and might not be able to continue even the current transmissions for long. There were the Ship Masters, Orna 'Fulsamee and Isra 'Derulee, the latter of which had been just recently elected as the replacement for Lat 'Ravamee after his untimely death at the hands of the humans that had assaulted the _Truth and Reconciliation_, alongside over one hundred other soldiers that had been attempting to prevent the prisoners from escaping. The slightly paranoid but unquestionably talented Field Master, Noga 'Putumee was taking a moment away from planning his next operations from the Sacred Ring's surface, and his somewhat less talented but far more cautious and reasonable Fleet Master counterpart Ello 'Cororee had been preparing to view his daily reports. Finally, last but not least was the Aristocratic Ultra, Soha 'Rolamee.

Unfortunately, most of them could only communicate via holographic projection. The one exception was the Aristocrat, who was stationed on the _Seeker of Truth_ alongside him at the moment, as their resident San 'Shyuum had managed to cut out of his oh-so-busy schedule for their sakes. He'd have included the arrogant alien, but for all that he respected their race as a whole they also had an annoying habit of cluttering up even the simplest of military matters with excessive politics. That was of course assuming that he would even be willing to join the Sangheili officers in the first place, even if it did happen to be in regards to the sudden release of the disease they'd struggled so hard to contain before the humans had arrived at the facility.

Oh, it probably would have escaped sooner or later even if there had been no interference, but at least they might have been able to properly regroup and consider more solutions. Now they were forced to take immediate action, and Master 'Putumee was informing him of the suggestions he'd been receiving (and supported) that they prepare for an all-out assault on the human infidels that had crashed to the Sacred Ring's surface, and in the midst of the battle send in more than two dozen Special Operations operatives to assassinate the Demon (Naturally it was just his luck that they would encounter the humans who shared a vessel with one of the Demons). Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee had one simple response.

"No." The holograms of his underlings might have been slack-jawed at his outright refusal, had they a little less control over themselves. Denial of propositions from lower-ranked officers was hardly uncommon but it was rarely treated with such outright dismissal. It wasn't as thorough a process as one might see in the chambers of the San 'Shyuum during their debates, but the Sangheili still had their cultural quirks, and most ideas presented by someone of rank was at least given the appearance of consideration. 'Rolamee probably could have vetoed his orders if he'd wished, but while one serving directly under the authority of a Prophet (Even a Minor Prophet) technically held more authority than the Supreme Commander in the grand scheme of things, they would typically defer to their authority in a military operation. Rtas 'Vadumee was the first to speak, having anticipated the response after years serving alongside the Supreme Commander both during their days as students and soldiers.

"Might I ask why, Excellency?" As if he didn't already know the answer, and wasn't simply making a query for the sake of Thel's other, less familiar subordinates.

"There have been too many failures already and we cannot afford any further distractions. We will cease hostilities with the humans for the time being, and unless provoked we must redirect our efforts to containing the parasites. These animals may deserve a quick end at our hands, but the monsters lurking within the Sacred Ring are a menace that takes priority over all others. We cannot allow their infestation of our forces to continue, and we most definitely cannot allow them to spread beyond the boundaries of the Sacred Ring." They seemed to accept his reasoning, though several were still rather discontented with the decision not to take the battle to their long-standing enemies. Once again Rtas was the first to respond, though there was an undertone of concern that Thel could only attribute to the sound of the Parasites throwing themselves against the sealed door behind his subordinate.

"And what of the Demon, Excellency?" The Supreme Commander paused for a moment, crossing his arms beneath his doarmir-fur cloak, knowing that most of them would be equally displeased with his next words.

"I shall take care of this Demon myself." He ignored the outburst of protests completely, instead turning to one of the communications stations. "You have been monitoring the humans' transmissions as I ordered?"

"Yes, Excel-." The officer he'd addressed was cut off by the sound of the door behind Rtas being met with a particularly aggressive blow, and the Special Operations Commander twisted away from the projector. There were audible tones of panic in the background noise for a few moments before his old training partner returned, no worse for wear but visibly agitated.

"You're hands are full, Commander. Return to your duties and we shall fill you in on the details when you return. I trust you can handle the situation?"

"Yes, Excellency." And the image disappeared. They sat in silence for a brief moment before he turned his gaze to the officer he'd addressed before, a relatively inexperienced member of the Special Operations Division that Rtas had left him, a young Sangheili by the name of Aned 'Nivalee who was sitting at a nearby console, undoubtedly flooded with chatter from the humans.

"As I was saying, have you received any indication of the Demon's status?" 'Nivalee removed the headgear that he'd been using for the past several hours in an attempt to uncover precisely the information he was being asked for.

"I believe so. They have done impressive work with keeping their messages well guarded. These humans keep their communications short, and use code words that I am unfamiliar with. However, from what I _have_ been able to decode and translate as well as the reported sightings of the Demon leaving the Control Facility, it appears that it is likely in one of two locations."

"Show me." 'Nivalee nodded, stepping away from his station and to a round console where he activated a holographic map of the ring.

"The first is the large human encampment on near the mesa downspin of the crash site of their command vessel. Our forces on the ground," He gave a respectful nod to the Field Master's image, which returned the gesture "have been observing them as best they can, but reports indicate difficulty in getting close enough without risking a direct confrontation. The second possibility is…less comforting."

A few buttons were pressed and the image shifted to a point on the map with a swamp that was home to an all-too-familiar structure.

"As you know, Excellency, recently, one of their transportation craft crashed near the Ancient structures where we managed to seal away the infestation. Nothing directly indicates the Demon's presence here, but their increasingly frantic tones that their people have used in their transmissions since it crashed would imply that someone or something of great significance was on that vessel."

"Well done, officer. Return to your station." 'Nivalee bowed, and as the younger Sangheili returned to his work the image of Noga 'Putumee turned towards his superior.

"Perhaps I might offer my opinion, Excellency?"

"You may, Field Master 'Putumee."

"I doubt that the Demon is in the encampment. We have both seen their kind in the field of battle. While we could certainly take this station of theirs by force, I have no doubt that they have done whatever they can to reinforce it. Even as powerful as this beast has shown himself to be, they likely feel that he would be suited more to the field than to an already well-fortified position. On the other hand, whether it was the Demon itself who was in that vessel or simply something important to them –and it does appear to be important– then they would surely send their greatest warrior to retrieve it."

"I must agree with Field Master 'Putumee, Excellency." The Fleet Master's voice was quiet, respectful even though he'd failed to await permission from his superior. "I was preparing to send reinforcements to the location already, as just moments before you called for this session we received reports of more human vessels arriving, though I have not yet received any word on the Demon's presence. However, from my limited experience with their kind, I feel secure in concurring with the Field Master's notions."

"Indeed that was a logical conclusion Field Master, Fleet Master. These Demons of theirs have rarely been placed in defensive positions in any engagement that I have witnessed. They are the ones that the humans send into the field to retake ground. No, I quite agree with your conclusion. He will be at the Ancient structures where the infestation was contained. Nanab," he didn't even glance at the Unggoy, one of those who acted as a personal aid to the officers onboard and who had been at his service for quite some time now. He unclasped his cloak and held it out at arm's length as the Unggoy rushed to take it. "Return this to my quarters.

"Right away, Excellency!" He didn't bother to watch the small soldier scramble away, eager to follow the commands of his superior as Unggoy of his status often were. He turned back to the gathered officers, picking out Ship Master 'Derulee, practically brimming with excitement at the opportunity to make up for his predecessor's failure aboard the _Truth and Reconciliation_.

"I shall require an advanced strike team to be prepared immediately."

"I shall provide the most skilled agents I have to aid you, Excellency." The image of the Ship Master spoke with a hint of pride. They were by no means friends, in fact he knew little more of the warrior outside of his recommendations from other Masters and what their ships had on record, but one of those recommendations had come from Commander 'Vadumee and he was one of the few that Thel trusted implicitly when it came to analyzing a soldier's abilities. Not to mention the fact that he'd been on the vessel, personally encountered the Demon and lived to tell the tale, and had by all appearances done quite an exceptional job of reforming the ranks of his fellow survivors.

"You have my thanks Master 'Derulee. I shall meet them in your vessel's hangar." He turned to the Sangheili with the highly ornate armor. "Ultra 'Rolamee, I leave you my command during the absence of Commander 'Vadumee and myself. If anything should happen, I trust that you will handle any further complications with the infestation?"

"Of course, Commander."

"Field Master, you will continue to observe the human encampment and report any unusual activities to the Ship Master. Otherwise do not engage them and focus on gathering your forces at their fallen command ship. It would be rather troublesome if we finally dealt with the infestation only for the humans to have raided it and resupplied for yet another fight."

"It shall be done, Excellency." His image faded as well, and a quick dismissal of the others left the Sangheili officer to prepare himself for the coming mission. He was soon followed by the Ultra, already expecting the concerns that would no doubt be voiced.

"Commander, are you certain this is wise? I realize the frustration that you must be feeling with this latest turn of events, but to confront the Demon yourself?"

"Do you doubt my skill, 'Rolamee?"

"No, it is nothing of the sort. Yet it cannot be denied that this Demon has caused far greater damage than we could have anticipated, defeated far more warriors than we could have predicted. I am simply concerned that we have not investigated this matter thoroughly enough to put one of your status at such immediate risk."

"You have known me for quite some time now 'Rolamee, nearly as long as Commander 'Vadumee even. If the Special Operations Commander had not contacted us, not alerted us to the escape of the parasites so early, then perhaps I would have stood by. As the Gods would have it, that is not the case today. I cannot allow this Demon to wreak further havoc by inspiring and leading his fellows when we must also direct our attention to these beasts of the Sacred Rings. I will ensure that the Demon is dealt with myself. The humans shall be far less difficult to manage without it at their side, so we may focus more of our efforts on containing the infestation."

"Yes, Commander."

"Thank you for your understanding, 'Rolamee. Ah, Nanab, I see you have already prepared for the mission." The little Unggoy was fully decked out in the standard armor of the Unggoy Heavy Units, brandishing a plasma rifle that looked humorously large in its little arms. 'Vadamee couldn't particularly recall telling the energetic little creature that it could follow him on the mission, but the Aides had always been rather eager to please. Though admittedly, it wasn't all that surprising given that the Aides were selected from the few thousand among the tens of millions born in a revolution which had natural traits of increased aggression, ambition, and physical talents. And to think he'd almost sent him to serve on the _Truth and Reconciliation_ just a few rotations ago. It couldn't hurt to take it along with him. He bade the Aristocrat farewell, trusting that he would keep the _Seeker of Truth_ in order during his absence, and departed to rendezvous with 'Derulee's warriors.

Thankfully, it was only a few minutes after his arrival that the entire team was present, though the Unggoy were the only ones to actually arrive late. Not that he could blame them, considering that one of them was lugging a cannon nearly as large as itself, and another two were dragging a crate of extra supplies with them. This certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd questioned the logic behind forcing Unggoy to carry such things. It was certainly too humiliating for any Sangheili warrior to perform such menial tasks, but it would easily decrease their preparation time by far if something that weighed more than a small fraction of the supplies was carrying the supply crates.

The briefing was nothing special, and finished long before they'd even begun to approach the swamp. There were three very simple commands that he'd ensured that they would understand:

One: If there was a human presence, then avoid lethal wounding. A drawn blade demanded blood, but if they somehow failed to kill the Demon then they would need to use survivors as a source of information. They could not afford to wait for the humans to slip up with their transmissions again, nor could they just hope to run across it at a convenient time.

Two: Do not provide the parasites with a host. By all reports, they were capable of converting a fallen enemy into a newer, far deadlier enemy than the infection forms. If the disease could no longer be warded off, activate an explosive and die with honor.

Three: Survive. Not all of them, of course, but if they were overwhelmed either by disease or human, at least one of their numbers needed to live and send word to the remaining Masters of their forces.

Well, those were the rules for the warriors, anyway. The Unggoy had a different set of rules:

One: When in doubt, shoot.

Two: If you cannot shoot, run.

Those guidelines generally worked out well enough. If they couldn't kill something, they could at least draw some fire. Or, if they happened to be lucky, provide a signal for any other nearby Covenant patrols for backup.

With little else to do after explaining the details and laying down the law, he took a second glance at the team he'd been provided. The Unggoy numbered at two dozen alongside Nanab, but that was neither unexpected nor unwelcome. It wasn't that he liked sending the smaller creatures to their deaths, but he didn't particularly care for them and if it meant sparing one of his fellow Sangheili for a greater task then, well, sacrificing a few of the considerably less useful soldiers was an option he would welcome. All five of the warriors were relatively young, but very eager, very skilled, and held enough combat experience to be considered sufficient for this task if the word of his comrades was to be believed. He glanced back down in the brief analysis he'd received from 'Derulee, ignoring the excited chatter.

Three Minor Domo from the 'Nowar, 'Ipsus, and 'Uzuud lines, one Major Domo, Erra 'Balumee, and one Special Operations Minor who was quickly on his way to becoming a Special Operations Major if rumors were to be believed named Ryra 'Aebadee. No, it wasn't a poor group at all, even with only one true veteran among them aside from himself. There were no details on the Unggoy, not that he would have read them even if they'd been included. They were so rarely of use as anything besides drawing enemy fire. In addition, the Fleet Master had already been sending in another two standard teams that he'd since ordered to cover them and help secure the area in case the humans had managed to set up some kind of camp while investigating the crash.

He almost hoped they were. If the humans had managed to set up a camp, it would imply that they'd been able to force the parasites back into the facility and left the beasts completely imprisoned once again as soon as Rtas was finished with his own task. If that were the case then it would be a simple matter of removing the human presence on the ring, and while certainly an aggravation in their own right, the pests were much more preferable than beings capable of infecting and possessing anything they came into contact with.

A voice came over their comm. Systems.

"We are approaching the landing zone. All forces prepare for deployment. Good hunting, Excellency."

"Ha! Nanab's Commander needs no wishes of luck! His Excellency will slay the Demon with its own evil hands!" And with as much confidence as it spoke, the Aide let out a high pitched screech –Thel assumed was a battle cry– and leapt from the opening hatch. At this rate Nanab would be lucky to return alive. Even if it did survive the mission, his fellow warriors were far from pleased to arrive on the battlefield second to an Unggoy, of all things.

_Oh well. Eager little thing, isn't it?_ He followed the (possibly insane) Aide's excited howl with a war cry of his own, leaping out and signaling the others to follow. They were all too happy to oblige. They were somewhat less gleeful upon landing, and the other two teams who followed suit moments later seemed no different.

_Nothing._ He could see the other warriors searching for a sign as well, but they kept silent for fear of speaking out of turn. Nanab was less hesitant to voice his confusion.

"Where humans? Where Demon? Nanab doesn't like this."

He scanned the area again, coming to the same conclusion as before. It was empty. Granted they were only at the entrance to the facility, but he'd at least expected something. Sounds of combat, footsteps, voices, bodies…even a few of the remains of their primitive projectiles would have been better than the deafening silence, broken only by the dirty, decaying scents of the swamp. Because if there were no signs of the dead or the living, it could only mean-_Wait!_

Thel swung his pistol up towards trees in the distance as a shot echoed from the darkness, followed by another, and another. Within a few seconds the silence was filled with the inelegant sounds of crude weapons and cries of fright. Those weren't Covenant arms, not any used outside of Jiralhanae circles anyway. _Humans_.

"Let us charge forward into glory!" The instinctive cry escaped him without thought as he charged towards the sound, his comrades gladly following with a chorus of wicked roars. They raced into battle, heedless of the Unggoy who shuffled along behind them silently hoping that the Sangheili would be the ones to act as bullet sponges for once. Save of course for one Aide, who took to all fours in an effort to match the pace of its superiors.

Moments later the charge came to an abrupt halt as the warriors realized, with a sense of dread unprecedented in their kind, that the humans hadn't been targeting them. That this hadn't been some kind of elaborately planned strike, or even a clumsy ambush. The humans were facing away from the charging warriors, all of their efforts focused instead on the hundreds, possibly _thousands_ of parasites scrambling towards them. Through the murky water, over incredible trees, through rotting roots and trembling bushes, they came as one in an unyielding, unforgiving flood.

"Attack! Eliminate the abominations!" The humans turned only for an instant at the call, but that was all the parasites needed. In a mere second the swarm had engulfed several of the lower species, though at least a few were close enough to his own warriors to turn back and continue firing, projectiles now accompanied by plasma and needle as enemies put aside aggression for a brief moment to avoid certain destruction. Then, though it was only faint in the chaos of the battle, he detected the sound of gunfire.

From the archaic facility where the Demon was believed to have gone.

_He was there!_ Were the Gods toying with him? The Demon would escape! The humans were almost gone, only two of them remaining. They'd been so close, yet now…

"Supreme Commander!" Major 'Balumee was calling to him. He must have heard the Demon as well. "We shall hold them here until you have destroyed it. Go!"

He didn't hesitate. The others wouldn't blame him. In fact, they'd likely look upon him with less respect if he _had_ stayed, rather than finishing their mission. The Unggoy were beginning to panic, that was unsurprising, but he would have to trust the Major with controlling the situation. Thel 'Vadamee had a demon to slay.

…A demon which, much to his surprise, was apparently faring little better against the parasites than anyone else. The armored human's shields flared as one of the bulbs crashed into him, exploding on impact as they were prone to do. He made for the human, grasping for the energy blade at his waist. He could feel it. This was it, this was his chance! He sprinted forward and ignited the blade, swinging it as more of the aggravating little bulbs tried to attach themselves to his flesh. But he wasn't moving. Not fast enough, not nearly fast enough. Every step he took, more of the monsters came. Soon it was all he could do to throw them from his limbs, without even the time to reach for the pistol he'd holstered at his thigh just below his secondary blade.

_Why, why now, why here!_ Surely he couldn't have committed such an offense that the Gods would betray him now, just a few leaps away from the one he was to destroy! And in an instant, he understood. It must have been part of their plan, a test to see if he would break. For in the blink of an eye superheated plasma was filling the air, beams of energy tearing through the parasites like nothing he'd seen on the ring, dozens of mechanical relics left behind by the Ancients tearing into his foes with vigor. And his path…his path was clear right to the Demon, looking from machine to machine like a mindless fool! If he had been surprised at the appearance of the ancient tools of war, then he was at a loss for words once his eyes rested upon what now hovered above the Demon's head.

_One of the Holy Oracles!_ Only the San 'Shyuum had spoken directly to the Oracles, but every Sangheili, every Unggoy, every member of the Covenant knew what they looked like. Through countless descriptions and illustrations throughout their lives, they had been told of these constructs, forged by the Gods themselves with infinite wisdom to pass on to those who believed. And then, well, things went south.

_No, no!_

As the armored human's rifle turned to the Oracle the Supreme Commander saw red. A new strength overtook him as he flung the remaining pods from his body and charged for the Demon, blade lost somewhere in the waters at his feet. The human turned to greet his bare-fisted lunge without hesitation…And the world shimmered, a feeling of weightlessness encompassing the combatants as they were engulfed in a burning light.

John rolled away from the attack as soon as the light faded, vision slightly blurred but otherwise unimpaired. His head shot around, looking for the alien and, more importantly, whatever the hell had just done…Well, he wasn't honestly certain what it had done to him. One moment he was in the swamp, ready to face an angry Elite head-to-head, and the next he was in this pristine hall of what appeared to be another one of the facilities on the Halo.

"Oh my, how unexpected, but ah! How delightful!" His eyes shot to the strange machine that had been speaking gibberish to him back in the swamp.

"Where am I?" It didn't hear him. Or maybe it did, and simply didn't care.

"Come, Reclaimer and Guest! We must retrieve the index before we can activate the installation, ahaha!" With that, it sped off into the distance, moving at far greater speeds than he'd have expected from the tiny orb.

_The hell?_ He didn't have time to ponder the odd AI, alerted by the sound of one of the Covenant energy swords activating. He spun towards the Elite, rifle rising to his shoulder as he cursed himself for losing focus on his surroundings in such a lethal situation.

The action was too late. He was forced to backpedal as the superheated plasma seared downward through the metal firearm as though it were no greater an obstruction than a crumbling leaf. He leaned backwards as the blade shot up towards him, grabbing the alien's wrist with his left hand. Yanking its wrist towards him, he shot his right elbow forward into its abdomen. John twisted his right arm up from its stomach as he began to turn to the left, gripped its arm with his other hand as well, and threw the Elite over his shoulder. As it rolled back to its feet, seemingly unaffected by the blow, his hand shot down to the pistol at his hip and brought it to level at the opening in the alien helmet just as it brought the blade up before its chest as a shield.

He held his finger on the trigger as it began to speak, hoping that it would be arrogant enough to allow him an opening. The M6D pistols packed quite a punch, but as luck would have it he was already low on ammunition. Risking anything but multiple direct shots would leave too much margin for error, never mind that he might be facing those…things…again soon. The alien took a few slightly ragged breaths before it took on a strange expression, something that looked almost like a grin.

"At last…we meet face to face." Good. Talking was good. At least it wasn't going for the plasma pistol at its side. On the other hand, it seemed as though it had fully recovered, and every wasted second was another second for its energy shielding to recharge. "Your people have been quite troublesome as of late, releasing that accursed disease after mine went through great efforts to restrict its movements after its first escape."

John only listened half-heartedly at first, but the mention of _his_ people releasing these things caught his attention. He'd assumed that the Covenant had released them, or perhaps even created them as some kind of weapon. The idea that these new players could be just as much of a problem for their long-time enemies as for the UNSC was disconcerting to say the least.

"No matter. We managed to seal them away after releasing them ourselves, and we shall do so again. At the moment I am more interested in you, Demon. You are unlike any human I have seen before, save for the others who bear that armor. Perhaps you would care to introduce yourself?"

John kept silent. Elites liked to talk when they thought they had the advantage and in his experience it was generally best to just let them. Most of the time they would eventually leave at least a small opening, and in some cases they were caught up enough to give a large one. If not, at least he'd have time to examine the environment, get a better feel for the terrain while it went on about infidels or holy artifacts or whatever it was that they enjoyed ranting about.

"I see you are a creature of silence in the face of the enemy. I suppose that is respectable, to put actions over words. Before I send you to the abyss I shall take a moment to introduce myself, even if you will not. I am Thel 'Vadamee, Sangheili Warrior, Kaidon of the 'Vadam line, Ship Master of the Seeker of Truth, and Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice. I have heard much from-" 'Vadamee quieted and glanced to the right, muttering a curse that was beyond John's translation software, at least so long as Cortana was unavailable. In most situations he might have thought this little more than a trick, an attempt to distract him and make a move. Unfortunately, his motion tracker was going wild and he had the sinking feeling that 'Vadamee was seeing the same thing at his back that he was seeing behind the Elite's. He'd witnessed what these creatures could do, and immediately realized one thing. Though it flew in the face of decades of training and combat, in the split second he had left John made a choice that he couldn't have possibly anticipated when he'd left to investigate Keyes's crash site.

He shifted his weapon to the left and fired at one of the small creatures leaping towards the Elite's back and spun around to smack another from the air as it leaped for him. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping that his action hadn't been a colossal mistake, and uttered two words at the alien who, much to his relief, had turned to fend off his own attackers.

"Bigger problems." Two simple words, but Commander 'Vadamee would have understood them perfectly even if he hadn't studied their species' languages during his earlier days in the war _and_ been equipped with their translation software. He would never wish to ally himself with one of the humans much less one of their precious Demons, but the truth was that this menace needed to be stopped here and now. And throughout history, one thing that had always been capable of uniting two foes was the emergence of a threat that greater than either individual force. The Demon's time would come, but for now he would not risk the safety of the entire Covenant for the sake of killing a single being, no matter what that being might be.

He finished another of the Infection Forms before him and sent a blast of plasma into one of the small ones as it approached the Demon from the side, an unnecessary but significant gesture. Shouting so that the armored warrior would be able to hear it, he echoed the soldier's sentiments before swinging back to continue the struggle.

"Agreed!" _For now, Demon_.

Though they lacked the time to truly consider the implications of their actions, and though the truce might be only a flicker in time, there was a mutual (albeit unpleasant) understanding between the two warriors that at this particular moment, such an arrangement was necessary.

* * *

AN: Well, hope it was an enjoyable start. For the record, this has been in planning for a while so certain elements of canon revealed since I started might be added or excluded depending on if I feel it conflicts with the overall story (I have no intention of completely re-writing my entire idea every time they change a date or something). For those who are watching my other stories, most of the edits/revisions are complete (or getting close), and new chapters should be out pretty soon as long as nothing goes wrong. Thanks for reading and for those waiting on my other stories, for the patience.


	2. The Library

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Halo, hence the fanfiction.

AN: Well, here goes chapter two. Also, note that I realize the Chief's translation tech wasn't that amazing (at least without Cortana) on Installation 04. That's why I mentioned briefly that Thel studied human languages earlier on in the war. I would really rather not spend the entire fic translating between the two with some overcomplicated system. So yeah, for the sake of my state of mind, Thel can understand the Chief and the Chief can understand Thel. Other Covenant members may be a different matter, but…well, not much of a concern since most of the story focuses on these two.

* * *

"Ah, Reclaimer!" The far-too-cheerful voice came from above as the last of the pod-like creatures fell to a glancing punch. "What in the world are you and your guest doing? We really don't have time to be playing games. We must activate the installation if we are to eliminate the Flood, eheeheehee!"

The MA5 was ruined thanks to the Elite, and he only had forty-eight rounds left for the M6D. He would _not_ waste them on this annoying little AI no matter how much he was tempted. John ejected an empty magazine, sliding another into place as he told the foreign machine just what he thought of its lecturing.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until I know what the hell is going on." The Elite rounded on him at the tone in his voice.

"You will _not_ speak to the Holy Oracle with such disrespect, Demon!" The machine ignored the outburst, bobbing up and down in front of the duo with far too much excitement for John's taste (And, though he would never say it in front of another, Thel was beginning to share the sentiment).

"Why, what an unusual question. There has been an outbreak of course. That's why we must activate the installation, Reclaimer."

"And what about you?" He ignored the slight growl from the Elite.

"Me? Why, I am the Monitor, designation 343 Guilty Spark! My task, as set by my makers, is the maintenance, operation, and security of this installation." A few more bobs as the single glowing "eye" turned between the two. "But I'm sure you were already aware of that, Reclaimer and Guest. Now if you have any more of these unnecessary questions, might we please save them for the journey? The longer we wait the more difficult containment will become, and our chances of success will likewise decline."

John ignored the fuming Elite standing a few feet away, taking only a moment to survey what firepower he had left before following the buzzing AI. Four magazines left, two grenades, and his body. Not exactly a lot to work with but he'd walked out of bad situations with less. It didn't take long for the heavy alien's footsteps to catch up with him, and even fewer for it to move ahead. He made no move to stop it. This—what had it called itself—Thel 'Vadamee would get no complaints from him if it wanted to run ahead to take the brunt of any attacks that might come. Instead, he focused on the strange little glowing orb. It seemed to be under the impression that the Elite and he had been there before, so they'd probably get more information if they acted the part.

"So, Spark." Another low growl rumbled from the Elite's throat at the informal name. "Exactly how long have you been here?"

The Elite tilted his head, probably expecting something more blatantly "heretical" than that, and though John was hardly an expert at alien body language, he seemed rather interested in the question.

"I must admit, Oracle, I am curious as well." The Gods had clearly placed the Oracle on this installation to guide his forces. The timing of its appearance was far too convenient to be mere coincidence, even if he couldn't fathom why it would bring this human further into the ring. It called him a "guest", so perhaps there was some form of ancient plot in place? Or perhaps it had simply assumed that two individuals combating the parasites must have been allies. Oh well. Who but the San 'Shyuum could comprehend the intentions of the gods? He could consider the possibilities later. For now he would trust that the Oracle had its reasons, whatever they may be.

"Oh, this penchant that you biologicals have for asking questions to which you already possess the answers is simply beyond me. I suppose it must be one of those quirks that come with less logic-based minds. If you absolutely _must_ ask, then I have been here for precisely 101,217 local years."

"Long time for an AI." John couldn't say how long it would take for an AI of Guilty Spark's design to go Rampant, but there was no way one hundred thousand years could be good on anything's mental state. The alien disagreed.

"The Oracle is not as limited as the primitive devices which you or I wield, Demon. It is one of the tools through which the Gods themselves—"

"Oh, you haven't the slightest idea how boring it has been all these years." Spark chuckled merrily at John's implied meaning. "I appreciate the task which my makers left me, but there are only so many times one can run through the same systems over and over before it simply becomes tedious. But now it would seem things have livened up a little, teehee!"

_Something's wrong with that thing_. It was acting, well, he couldn't say bizarre. It wasn't as though he was an expert on associated intelligence to begin with, so he certainly couldn't claim to be a master over the field of ancient alien AI. Still, even the best that the UNSC could produce only had an estimated seven year lifespan before they began to go rampant, and this thing definitely seemed to qualify as advanced. Even if the alien was right about it being far ahead of their technology, he was pretty certain that it should have gone mad by now. Not a pleasant train of thought.

And now, after nearly an hour of walking with little more than the inane ramblings of the AI for discussion Guilty Spark had left them after opening a gigantic set of doors while muttering more of his nonsense. John suppressed a satisfied smirk as the alien who had so praised it earlier stared after the disappearing AI, the scandal written all over its face clear as day to even the SPARTAN.

"The Oracle…Is not as I'd have expected." Not that John was about to complain about the AI's departure. Its ramblings were somewhat amusing when nothing else was happening, but they'd been fighting throughout probably half of the trek, and he really didn't need to be distracted with "Reclaimer this" and "Flood that" and "Are you finished playing these games" while being attacked from every which way.

The trek was silent after that, save for the lightening skirmishes along the way. The little pods, the larger, more combat-based versions that supported them, but nothing that he and his new "partner" had been unable to handle. In fact, he was almost thankful that they'd run across the bizarre creatures. He was sorry for the loss of human life, but several of them had been carrying weapons and ammunition that he severely lacked. The MA5, the M90, more ammunition for the M6D…The Elite had also picked up a few articles of Covenant weaponry to supplement his failing pistol. He scolded himself for the thought, but the alien's presence was strangely comforting. Not to insult the Marines, of course, but compared to his fellow SPARTANs…it wasn't all that surprising that the pinnacle of the Covenant's military forces would make him feel more like one of his brothers had his back. Speaking of the Elite…

"So, alien-"

"My name is Thel 'Vadamee, Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice. You will address me properly."

"-what can you tell me about these _Flood_ things we're dealing with?" And "dealing" seemed an appropriate description. The resistance so far had been pitiful, though he couldn't shake the foreboding feeling in his chest, telling him that it wouldn't remain quiet for too long.

Thel grunted, hesitating for a moment. He'd joined forces with the human to combat an immediate threat, but there was no threat now, and the Demon was asking him information that could be considered classified…But then, he supposed it couldn't hurt so long as the requests ended at the parasites and how to destroy them.

"They come in a number of forms." If the Demon was surprised to receive an answer, it didn't show. Not that he was ever good at understanding their body language, and the Demon was so heavily armored that the knowledge would have been useless anyway.

"I've noticed. There are those little pods and the ones that use bodies. Infect them." He couldn't say for sure, but the Demon seemed as disgusted at the actions of the parasites as his own warriors did. At least the humans had some sense of dignity, to realize how utterly unnatural and dangerous these creatures were.

"Yes. We call the small ones Infection Forms, and those who possess the fallen Combat Forms."

"Fitting." Simple and to the point. Not so different from their own naming of the Covenant soldiers.

"We felt it appropriate. We have seen several of these Combat Forms since they were first released. I admit, I have not yet witnessed any of your kind under their control. My brothers appear to be their preferred hosts, though we have recorded instances of Kig-Yar and Unggoy combat forms."

_Jackals and Grunts._ They weren't weak by any stretch of the imagination, at least not in comparison to the average human, but they'd always appeared less intelligent than the larger, more deadly Elites. Less intelligent than humans as well. Did that mean the Flood were actually sentient? Or was it all simply instinct? He turned his attention back to the alien.

"Most of their kind end up being turned into something we call the Carrier Form. Perhaps you've seen them: A hideous, bulbous creature that explodes, releasing yet another pack of the Infection Forms."

"Nasty little things."

"Quite." John held up a hand as they neared a corner, peering around to ensure the corridor was empty before waving Thel forward. There was a brief moment of silence before the warrior continued, voice more hesitant than before.

"Before our outposts were lost, we received some…unnerving reports." John fought the urge to twitch in surprise. He knew from both briefings and more than a little personal experience that this alien and his kind were among the deadliest warriors in the Covenant. They weren't nicknamed Elites for nothing. The idea that they could be unnerved was most certainly _not_ a comforting one.

"There was mention of another form, one that cannot be identified as any known species. It would seem, much like the Infection Forms, to be some manner of natural evolution for the parasite."

"Any names for this one?"

"We have yet to even confirm its existence, and reports indicate that it remains in the shadows, observing its prey, and so the warriors have come to name it the Stalker Form."

"Great. That's just excellent."

"I cannot help but find myself agreeing with you on this matter, Demon." _Surprising._ And it wasn't the first time since their impromptu truce. Even without anything of significance passing between them in the way of words, Thel couldn't deny that he felt a warped sort of kinship with the Demon. He'd heard of their prowess countless times before, even witnessed it for himself in battles where they'd appeared, but the armored human held himself in a most curious way. Brief as their engagements with the Flood had been since arriving, and unfamiliar with one another's body language as they were, he found himself understanding the Demon's every gesture and word as though he were a Sangheili warrior himself. They knew when to pause for the other to examine a possible ambush position, when to dodge so the other could eliminate a target they could not, when to crouch, and roll, and cover as the other exchanged arms with one of the fallen Combat Forms.

It was shocking, terrifying…exhilarating. Between them, they were slaughtering the very beings which had torn through entire patrols of experienced Sangheili, Kig-Yar, and Unggoy warriors.

But it was at an end. A dead end, to be precise, in the form of smaller set of doors with no apparent controls, and no Oracle to open them. They were, to put it simply, at a loss.

"Where is that damned AI?" The Elite's growl was less threatening, less heartfelt, his inhuman ally apparently suffering from the same exhaustion as the adrenaline began to fade with the lack of attacks and no path ahead of them from which an attack could come.

"The will of the Gods is beyond the understanding of us mortals." He huffed. "Though I admit, this Oracle's mannerisms are a rather effective test of one's patience."

"Oh honestly, Reclaimer." John almost chuckled at the realization that they'd both jumped at the Oracle's sudden appearance between them, the situation just so very unbelievable that he couldn't help himself. "Must you continue to dawdle? It was amusing at first but it's beginning to be quite a nuisance. We must activate the installation, and we cannot do that if you and your guest continue this squabbling."

_Dawdle? We're dawdling?_ The only reason they weren't going anywhere was because this thrice-damned machine was the only one who could open the doors stopping them. He spotted the Elite's fists clenching from his peripheral vision, shoving down the sense of satisfaction at seeing the devoted alien so annoyed with his great and mighty "Oracle."

"Gate."

"Pardon me?"

"We can't open the gate. Hence the dawdling."

"Oh my, how silly of me! Of course you lack the key, you've only just arrived on the installation. Poor form, Guilty Spark, poor form indeed."

"May the Gods give me strength." John ignored the muttering as the Elite stepped forward through the doors ahead of him, only to jump back as it came to an abrupt stop. His hand was on the shotgun at his back before he realized that the tall alien wasn't arming himself, but rather staring at a form spread across the ground in what John could only assume was shock…the same expression that was certainly etched across his own features at the sight of a mangled, ruined human corpse.

How on earth had a single Marine made it this far? Even with the Elite at his side it had been a struggle, and while he'd have been able to make it even without backup there was little question that he'd have been running more on will and adrenalin than anything. He slipped ahead of the alien and crouched at the fallen Marine's side, pulling the small metal tags from around his neck and putting them in one of the smaller compartments on the suit. No point in closing the man's eyes—they were missing at this point anyway.

_Staff Sergeant Marvin Mobuto. Not bad, soldier. Not bad at all._

"He must have been an incredible soldier." The rumbling voice spoke from his side, head bowed in a rare show of respect towards a warrior outside his own race. John nodded, accepting the gesture.

"Ah, yes, the other Reclaimer." Both men jerked at the statement, and a quick glance at the alien beside him revealed shock, followed by a narrowing of the eyes, and finally a look of horror.

"His combat skin proved even less suitable for an outbreak than your own. Yours is at least a Level Two Combat Skin. To have come into this situation with little more than a Level Three Civilian Skin." He let out a tsk. "Still, I suppose that makes this one's progress all the more impressive.

"Wait," John voiced what the Elite was apparently unwilling to "What do you mean by _Reclaimer_ exactly?"

The glowing orb was poor at conveying emotion, but Guilty Spark's voice left little room for speculation. The little AI was well and truly lost as to his meaning.

"Why, whatever do you mean? Is this a test, Reclaimer?" And he heard the Elite draw a deep breath as they came to the realization that _he_ was the one the "Oracle" had been addressing, while Thel was the guest it had spoken of.

"Oracle, why do you call the Demon, this human, Reclaimer?" It had seemed an honorable title, one befitting of a Supreme Commander in the Covenant's ranks. But a human? The Oracle had sought a _human_ to do its bidding? The construct buzzed with what could only be described as amusement.

"Have you truly not explained it to this one, Reclaimer? Such strange creatures, your species. Why the Forerunners chose _you_ as their successor escapes me to this day." John actually felt a surge of pity as the Elite stumbled away, tripping over himself in an unusual display of clumsiness as he stared at the AI in disbelief. It ignored the action, apparently unsurprised.

"Even the youngest of Manipulars were more focused and attentive than you have been. Honestly, leaving your guest in the dark while we traveled to the Index Chamber. It's almost as if—Oh my." The unidentified machines from the swamp swarmed into the space, much to the AI's pleasure. "It would seem the Sentinels have arrived. I'm afraid I must leave you for the time being, Reclaimer and Guest, but I've detected a plasma conduit breach in Section 5-5-2-4 and repairs will be necessary. I would suggest upgrading to a Class Twelve Combat Skin if one is available, but these should supplement your combat system well enough to complete this particular task. There should be a manually operated lift if you continue along this path. I shall attempt to finish my repairs and meet you at its destination. Tata for now."

And with that Guilty Spark was gone, once again off to do whatever it was that it did in its spare time. Right now, John was more interested in the Elite on the floor, more silent and lifeless than he'd been throughout their entire endeavor. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"Hey, you okay there, Squid-Lip?" And when the mocking name didn't so much as budge the solemn figure, the concern made itself known. Even an excellent soldier would be of no use if he was in too much of a funk to do any actual fighting. He lifted his foot and gave the alien's shoulder a slight shove, finally drawing its attention as he flipped to his feet, snarling at the armored human.

"Leave me be, Demon." It was impossible. The Oracle must have been mistaken. The Gods wouldn't choose a race such as humanity as successors. It flew in the face of everything they'd ever known, everything the Covenant had ever taught. The San 'Shyuum had always said…said humans were…but then, had the San 'Shyuum not also spoken of the indisputable wisdom of the Oracles? Had their eldest and wisest leaders not reinforced over and over that the Oracles were not merely interpreters, but the direct mortal link left by the Gods to guide their children?

The implications were incredible, impossible, yet the proof stood before him even as they spoke. There was no question, no mistaking the Oracle's words. The Demon—No, not a demon, a Reclaimer—was the inheritor of the will of the Gods. One of their chosen. The understanding that fought into his mind was nearly enough to make him wretch. His people had been systematically butchering the children of the Gods whom they had spent so many generations revering. The humans were the very children whom the Covenant teachings foretold would lead them to their destinies, to the Great Journey.

"The Oracle said—but you—it doesn't…" The Dem—The Reclaimer's voice was harsher than before.

"Snap the hell out of it. I don't know about your Oracle and I don't know about your gods, but right now we have more important things to deal with. Maybe you've forgotten, but there's an alien parasite working its way across this ring that we need to put down. Now is _not_ the time for a crisis of faith or whatever it is you're going through. I'm sure Spark'll be willing to answer your questions in detail once we're done here."

"You're right." And child of the Gods or not, he was. "My apologies. Let us continue."

* * *

"Report." 'Rolamee barked at the Unggoy, hoping to make it fidget. It wasn't that he particularly disliked those who were chosen as Aides—he really didn't care enough about them to feel strongly either way—but it was something of a pastime for some high ranking officers and Aristocrats to see if they could break that unnaturally confident façade seen in only a small number of their species. Special Operations Commander 'Vadumee stood beside him, watching the scene with a bit more solemnity than his comrade. Typically he would have been the one to respond, but his injuries had been rather severe upon his return, and so until he'd recovered more fully he had agreed to act more as an advisor and overseer.

"Yes, Excellency. Entire strike team was wiped out." Save for the obvious exceptions of the Major and himself, but since one of the two had lost an arm in the fray he was a bit preoccupied in the medical bay. "When His Excellency heard human fire, strike team investigated and found Flood attacking humans."

The two Sangheili shared quick glance. That declaration didn't bode well for the Supreme Commander.

"Then in battle, His Excellency heard more fire from Gods' Temple, went to see if it was the Demon. Nanab and others followed and saw Holy Oracle take Demon and His Excellency away in flash of light!" This time the glance was shocked. Could the Supreme Commander have truly been contacted by one of the Oracles themselves? And to have been taken alongside the Demon, well, something just didn't sit right. But as the Unggoy went on to describe the Oracle and how, upon seeing the dropship responding to their sudden distress call, Major 'Balumee had grabbed his last surviving ally and leapt to their incoming salvation…There was no doubt that it had been one of the Oracles. Even if they didn't trust the weak mind of an Unggoy, its description was perfectly in sync with every depiction they'd ever seen of the servants of the Gods.

"You're dismissed, Unggoy."

"Yes, Excellency! If commanders need anything, Nanab is ready!"

"Yes, clearly." The Unggoy yipped in excitement and marched out of the room, eager to get at least a small meal before hurrying back to work or…whatever it was the Unggoy did in their free time. 'Vadumee stared after the small servant in amusement, despite his concern for Thel's current whereabouts.

"Odd creatures, those."

"Quite."

* * *

There were very few things that could unnerve First Lieutenant Melissa McKay. She was a member of the ODST. They prided themselves on being nigh unshakeable. But this was grating on her very last nerve.

_Why aren't they attacking?_

The Covenant's leaders weren't stupid. They wouldn't have been driving humanity back for a few decades if that were the case. Yet it was pretty widely understood among Earth's military forces that the Elites were nothing if not arrogant and bold. It just wasn't in their nature to do what they'd been doing for the last couple days. Oh sure, there had been small engagements here and there during supply raids or scouting missions, but they should have made a move by now. The way her men had set up Alpha Base was all but openly taunting them to try something. It didn't make any sense.

They just kept watching.

There were Covenant scouts and small camps set up in the distance, and every now and then a Banshee or one of their Dropships would fly by just beyond their range, but they just. Wouldn't. Act.

"Anything going on Lieutenant?"

"Nothing. At all. Ever."

"Damned creepy, isn't it?"

"We don't shake just because a few of the Squid-Lips sit around staring back at us, soldier."

"R-Right, of course not. Still weird though." She could only nod her agreement. Something was seriously wrong with this situation.

_I've got a bad, bad feeling about this._

* * *

AN: I realize that a lot of the fighting happened off-screen in this chapter, so sorry to those who were put off by that. But I feel like when you write down every last little encounter in detail, it tends to derail the narrative and the battles start to feel a bit redundant. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter.


End file.
